


remember

by amxrtentia



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, M/M, Post-Break Up, determined yamaguchi, this is actually kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 23:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8553406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amxrtentia/pseuds/amxrtentia
Summary: a year ago, he would have heard his voice, heard his laughter fill his ears, the melancholy tone fitted through his memories, golden eyes taking over his thoughts. he remembers his voice, remembers the conversations they had at one a.m. because he called, because he couldn't sleep, couldn't believe that he deserved a spot on this earth. he remembers the questioned he asked him as if it had been last night, the way he said it so surly, like he had experienced such a thing first hand. they were young, they still were, so why had his best friend sounded like he'd been through it one too many times, like he'd lived for many years experience such a type of pain that should have been beyond him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> listen to pray you catch me covered by the brooklyn duo while reading this. the experience is ten times as more demanding, I promise.

_a year ago, you were here._

a year ago, he would have heard his voice, heard his laughter fill his ears, the melancholy tone fitted through his memories, golden eyes taking over his thoughts. he remembers his voice, remembers the conversations they had at one a.m. because he called, because he couldn't sleep, couldn't believe that he deserved a spot on this earth. he remembers the questioned he asked him as if it had been last night, the way he said it so surly, like he had experienced such a thing first hand. they were young, they still were, so why had his best friend sounded like he'd been through it one too many times, like he'd lived for many years experience such a type of pain that should have been beyond him.

_' i wouldn't be missed. you wouldn't miss me, would you? ' his tone has gone scratchy, his vocals wavered with every syllable that wrapped around him, suffocating hi. all the more as he held back what demanded to be let out, what demanded to be felt._

_' it's impossible not to miss something that you once had. ' he responded, his voice too soft, too calm for him to comprehend. why had this been something he could answer with such fulfilling nature that it filled him to the brim with a new found content, with a new found calm of reassurance. he wouldn't be forgotten, he would be missed, and that was all he needed to hear._

he remembers how calm he'd felt hearing those words, how much he depended on knowing that he would be here, he would miss him.

_and know he wasn't._

the thought was bitter, left an eerily nasty taste lingering in his mouth and he hadn't even said it. he wasn't sure if it had been the late night pushing on such aggressive thoughts, or maybe it was the anger that had built up in those twelves months that he'd been gone, the anger that had always left him asking why. his words still hung heavy around him, because even then, instead uplifting him, they had been dragging him down, because he was still right. it is impossible to not missing something that you once had, because he missed him. but he was gone, left without a word and for the passed three hundred and sixty five days, he's gotten to hear those words linger in his thought, keep him on the brink, only to push him back to it,it held him steady when he got treacherously upset, kept him same knowing people would still miss him if he were gone, so he stayed.

but they haunted him late at night when he'd been left to his own devices, knowing he missed the person he'd once had. he lets the call resonate in his memories as he lies still, the sound of his clock enveloping him and pulling him down to a mere nothing. the space next to him was too empty, too even and too made for it to even be comfortable. he needed it to be disheveled, for him to come back and occupy the spot he did every weekend after a game, to occupy that side the night before a test when they stayed up to study for the test they weren't ready for.

but then he remembers how angry he is, he remembers more of his calming words flowing out his sea of anger as he sat there left to wonder; _why?_ he had no business doing what he did, leaving him high and dry, left out there on his own to suffocate by himself and try to claw his way free.

he remembers the first day after, hinata had tried to keep him steady throughout the day, still unknowing of what had happened between them. no one had, not even himself. he had just ended it, ending everything that they had started and he couldn't give him one _fucking_ reason why. he remember hinata holding his hand because he broke down after messing up a serve during practice. remembers the way he has to pull him away from all of the staring in the room because he couldn't stop.

_' it's not fair! he can't just. . . he can't just leave without telling me why, and the not show up to anything anymore. he doesn't get to do that! he. . . he promise. . . ' the tears had fallen before he had even gotten the chance to react, palms moving all to fast the moment he saw the first drop fall to the ground. before he could register anything around him, hinata had already placed his arms around him, holding him like he would break at any second._

_' some times, people do things for a reason, and we have to accept that, we have to sit back and watch while they try to fix themselves. ' except, he had wanted to be the one to fix him, not who was. it was unfair, he hated it, hated him for it._

he didn't hate him. he couldn't hate him, _he missed him_. because he remembers how much he loves him. his body rakes over with shakes as he lays there, as he thinks, and thinks, and _thinks_ until he's not anymore and he's making a beeline for it. he rushing, he knows he is. he should be getting ready for school, and to his parents, he is. his uniform is on, he looks fine, he looks normal. but he's not. he's racing to the train station, and he doesn't think twice about what he's doing. his eyes look hollow, dark circles under his eyes, his skin pale. he hadn't slept, but he didn't want to be bothered by such facts.

his hand shakes when he buys the ticket, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't remember putting in his ear buds as his music shakes him to the very core, the beat thrumming through him as he takes a seat on the empty train. fingers clutch at the device in his left hand, his right removing the headphones from his ears and phone, quickly shoving them into his pocket and disregarding the idea of the even getting tangled and disgruntled in his pocket. he pulls out a card and dials the number, his vision becoming blurry as he sits there. he memories flood with pictures of his smile, how happy he'd always looked when they were alone, he remembers his snarky comments and his arrogant attitude.

but then he remembers the little things, how when he thought no one had been looking how upset he'd looking, how hollow he'd looked, like he was so alone. how he looked like he didn't want to be there. he remembers the small things, the minuscule ways he'd put things off, trying to place it as just procrastination. he remember how much he'd stopped eating and only took in so little. he remember brushing it off as his best friends teenage angst. he remembers the guilt of when his mom had asked if he'd been okay, if he shown any signs of being depressed. he remember shrugging it off. _why had he done that?_ maybe then he would have been able to stop it from happening, stopped him from trying to do what he did.

he startles when he hears a voice on the other end of the line.

' hi, I'm wondering if I'm able to see a patient of yours in your facility today, his name is tsukishima kei. ' 


End file.
